SLY VINX

Swing the bebop. Rap the hip-hop. Croon the doo-wop. Sing the rock-pop.

Overlay with Caribbean influences. Underline with infectious drumbeats.

Synthesize and improvise into what one man can vocalize.

That one man is ... Vinx.

"Fortunately, with just drum and voice, I don't give you enough information to put me into a category," says Vincent D'jon Parette -- aka Vinx -- billed as "One Man, One Voice, One Drum."

Uniquely talented, Vinx brings his singular style -- from familiar classics to "jungle funk" -- to a Kwanzaa-themed performance Saturday at West Las Vegas Library.

"My approach is very jazz-esque, it's about creating an environment where magic can happen. The word 'vocalize' is where the voice is an instrument, not just a deliverer of lyrics."

Vinx vocals are beyond interpretations. They're reinventions.

Catch him onstage, minus backup band and supporting singers, relying on electronic hand drums or other percussive instruments, and a set of pipes that rebuild songs from the ground up in entirely new ways.

Propelled by intricate, locomotive rhythms he lays down on a conga drum, Vinx takes Carole King's "It's Too Late" and discovers new layers, peeling off into a free-form riff that keeps faith with every word but deposits them in a melody infused with improvisational relish.

"My audience loves it because they already know the other version," Vinx says. "If I can't give a clear, distinct piece of Vinx, then what's the point?"

Stark and striking, his style strips music to its elemental virtues, as on "My Funny Valentine," taking a standard conventionally covered by crooners with big-band accompaniment, and remodeling it as a poem with percussion.

"He's soulful and universal," says Jani Jeppe, coordinator of the library's performing arts center. "When you hear Vinx, you immediately appreciate him. People who appreciate good music and have wide musical tastes will know him. He's timeless."

Credits are abundant -- his resume of collaborators onstage and in-session name-checks the likes of Sting, Stewart Copeland, Stevie Wonder, Branford Marsalis, Cassandra Wilson, Rickie Lee Jones, Taj Mahal and Herbie Hancock.

"I come from a musical family," he says. "All those aunts and uncles and listening to Motown and Nancy Wilson and Curtis Mayfield, as well as growing up in Kansas, where you have the folk and country music all around. I'd listen to music just to figure out why people would like it, and I discovered an appreciation for it as well."

Personally, his history is compelling, laced with tragedy: His home was torched by racists, a crime that left him severely burned, though he eventually recovered. His father, whom Vinx describes as a crooner and his greatest musical influence, was murdered during a family vacation in Detroit.

"It was tough," he says. "I can have the choice of being bitter or making the best of stuff. I'm not whiny."

Overcoming both dark chapters, Vinx attended Kansas State University on a track scholarship, nearly reaching the Olympics. Fatefully, he was turned away twice -- first in 1980, when he qualified for the Moscow games but was denied when President Jimmy Carter called for a boycott, then again in 1984, when an injury during the trials ended his aspirations for the L.A. games.

"In 1984, I was the only legitimate musician-athlete in the world, since we all know Carl Lewis can't sing," Vinx jokes. "I was touring with Taj Mahal at the time. It would have been interesting to see what would've happened with that mass exposure. But I needed all that stuff to sharpen my edge."

Next came a stint as a fitness trainer for the famous, including Wonder, George Hamilton and Marisa Tomei. Eventually, music took over as his guiding passion, yielding a career that's provided more of a cult following than a mainstream fan base.

"My audience didn't care about me until I stopped caring about them," Vinx says. "If I was servicing them with something I thought they wanted to hear, it just wasn't happening. I said, 'You know what? I'm not supposed to be a pop star.' I'm supposed to be that great restaurant your grandmama has, or that little boutique you go to when you want something special."

To thine own musical muse be true. Although ...

"I still wish I was a pop star," Vinx says, "every time I've got to pay my mortgage."

Contact reporter Steve Bornfeld at sbornfeld@ reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0256.